Looking at the clock, I struggle

Despair floating like an eye floaty thing
Get the hell out of here

Like cheese, I age, the more so the more I smell like a ****** old guy like ******* quit buying clothes from Dillard's

Like an onion, I make people cry because my face resembles a donkey getting ***** by an eagle that's ice skating and juggling

All at the same time.

Stuck in my socioeconomic class
My mom is getting harassed
My brain cells are getting grassed

I hate communists.

Right now

I am in a library with my English class

Hiding

Hiding from my teacher


Like

A worm

Hiding from an eagle

But what is my life to a worm's?

Worms enjoy call of duty just as much as any other American

Swaguespack counterattack my girl is black

Celery

Such a simple thing
But so complicated

Does it add weight?
Or take it?

Sort of like bacteria
Is it good for us?
or bad?
idrk

Little is known about Graham
I see him everyday, yet, I know nothing about him
Nor does anyone else

He sits in a circle, the circle includes himself and stuffed animals
He sits there, in the yard of his beautiful house

Although he seems content, with his home and... friends...
I can't help but feel an aura of sadness around him
Why though?
He has it made! His parents were rich, he's never worked a day of his life for anything

I have heard rumors, however, that he's a nice man
Loving
and quite congenial
But how could anyone know that?
No one knows him!
People judge Graham based on what they see
And they see contentness
They walk by his home a glance over to a seemingly happy man
Surrounded by his stuffed animals, err, friends

Then why do I feel this aura of sadness around him?


Surely he knows they're not real...
That if he were to leave them, they wouldn't call for him to come back...
He must know that
He must...

But, there they are. Gathered in front of his perfect house
Happily chatting away, as if nothing is wrong


I'm sure one day he'll wake up and realize it
Realize that they're not real, the stuffed animals
are not real
That they don't care for him
That they can't care for him
All he needs
is to just
snap out of it...
and wake up






Hey guys! That was a poem that took me a long time to write, I know it's probably pretty bad, I'm only 16. But that poem was about me, how I'm surrounded by friends that aren't real friends, but they're there. It's true, I've never worked a day of my life for anything. Never worked to have friends, people just naturally like me I guess. But deep down I know im not who they think i am, that im not truly happy. Anyway, please leave feedback if you think i could've worded something better, anything is appreciated, I'm very new!
~Thanks,
        -Graeme